His name is Daniel.

Every Thursday he set out the chairs as he waited for Val. She was an experienced Bible study leader with a heart for evangelism, who led a small group at the retirement home through the Gospel of John. Each week Daniel would sit slumped in his chair, listening to the discussion. He attended faithfully, never saying anything unless specifically asked, rarely responding to questions.

When he did, he invariably said the same thing: “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I have Alzheimer’s.”

Val had seen the progressively deteriorating disease at work in Daniel, who had initially been much more lucid, able to answer questions about his deceased wife, his children and grandchildren. Over time he had become less receptive, increasingly surly and withdrawn. Although civil at Bible study, Daniel was often loud and rude to the servers at mealtimes as they struggled to explain the menu. His Alzheimer’s made him forget the meanings of words, causing him to complain loudly that they should choose words that made sense.

Val began to feel that there was no way to reach Daniel through the fog of Alzheimer’s, so she planned a series of lessons focusing on the claims of Christ with an 86-year-old woman in mind who was attending her first Bible study.

When the study began, the elderly resident didn’t come. In fact, none of the unbelievers appeared, except fog-bound Daniel. When the group’s time was over — predictably — Daniel was the first to leave.

This time, however, he stopped at Val’s chair, waving the handout angrily in her face. “Is this our homework?” he asked. “Because if it is, I don’t understand it!”

“That’s OK, Daniel,” Val began. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you next week.” That’s what she meant to say. But what came out was: “Sit down a minute and I’ll try to explain it to you. “This paper tells about Jesus,” Val said, “and how He says that He is God. Some people don’t believe that. But if He isn’t God, He is either a liar or a lunatic.”

“I don’t understand,” Daniel responded.

Val tried another tack. “Let’s talk about what you believe. Do you believe Jesus is God?”

“Yes. I’m Catholic,” Daniel said.

Val began to feel that there was no way to reach Daniel through the fog.

“I know,” Val replied, struggling to speak through tears that suddenly welled up. After months of praying with no change, this opportunity seemed too good to be true. “Jesus, who you believe is God, was born as a man. He lived on earth and died on the cross for your sins. Do you believe that?”

“I don’t understand,” Daniel replied.

“What don’t you understand?”

“Sin.”

“Sin is all the things that you have done wrong, just like everybody does things wrong,” explained Val. “Do you believe you have done things that are wrong?”

“Yes.”

“The things you did wrong keep you from being friends with God. Jesus came to give us the chance to be friends with God,” she continued. “He died on the cross so you could be forgiven for the things you did wrong.”

“How could He do that? I wasn’t even there when He died,” countered Daniel.

“Remember, you said you believe that Jesus is God. God knows everything before it happens. Do you believe that?”

“Yes,” Daniel answered quietly.

“Since Jesus knows everything before it happens, He knew that Daniel would be born, and that he would do things that were wrong. Jesus died on the cross ahead of time so you could be forgiven for the wrong things you would do, and be friends with God. Do you believe that?”

“Believe what?” asked Daniel.

The conversation went on like this for nearly an hour, with explanation following explanation. Val used different words when Daniel didn’t understand the common terms: sin, relationship, pray, eternal, heaven, saved, accept, Savior and grace.

After each point, Val asked, “Do you believe this?”

Finally, she asked, “Daniel, do you want to accept Jesus as your Savior right now?”

“What? I don’t understand,” replied Daniel.

“Do you want to tell Jesus that you believe He died on the cross so you could be His friend and live with Him forever in God’s house when you die?”

“Yes,” Daniel said, tears welling.

Val asked Daniel to talk to God with her, as she led him in a simple prayer of salvation, using words he seemed to understand. When they finished, Daniel smiled for the first time Val had ever seen. She reiterated that he no longer needed to worry about being good enough, and that he would definitely live in God’s house when he dies.

Val understood that the power of God had cleared the fog from Daniel’s mind. She could have talked forever to no avail, but God chose to intervene. The following week, Daniel came to set up the chairs early, as usual. Once again he was neither speaking nor responding to greetings. Although initially disappointed, Val realized that the Alzheimer’s fog had been supernaturally lifted just long enough for Daniel to be saved.

And though he remained unresponsive in many ways, Daniel’s behavior had changed — evidence of the Holy Spirit’s presence. The Alzheimer’s fog had returned, and would undoubtedly thicken. But now peace was there, too.